rj.thepathofdaggers-第20部分

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twisting；　not　from　his　grip　but　from　the　tendrils　of　the　True　Power；　drawn　from　the　Great　Lord　himself；　that　wreathed　around　the　grillework；　flexing　as　he　flexed　his　hand　in　anger。　The　Great　Lord　would　not　be　pleased。　He　had　strained　from　his　prison　to　touch　the　world　enough　to　fix　the　seasons　in　place。　He　was　impatient　to　touch　the　world　more；　to　shatter　the　void　that　contained　him；　and　he　would　not　be　pleased。　Rage　enveloped　Moridin；　blood　pounding　in　his　ears。　A　moment　past；　he　had　not　cared　where　those　women　went；　but　now。。。　Somewhere　far　from　here。　People　fleeing　ran　as　far　and　as　fast　as　they　could。　Somewhere　they　felt　safe。　No　use　sending　Madic　to　ask　questions；　no　use　squeezing　anyone　here；　they　would　not　have　been　fool　enough　to　leave　anyone　behind　alive　who　knew　their　destination。　Not　to　Tar　Valon。　To　al'Thor？　To　that　band　of　rebel　Aes　Sedai？　In　all　three　places　he　had　eyes；　some　that　did　not　know　they　served　him。　All　would　serve　him；　before　the　end。　He　would　not　allow　chance　slips　to　spoil　his　plans　now。
　　　　　　　Abruptly　he　heard　something　other　than　the　thundering　drumbeat　of　his　own　fury。　A　bubbling　sound。　He　looked　at　Madic　curiously；　and　stepped　back　from　the　spreading　puddle　on　the　floor。　It　seemed　that　in　his　anger　he　had　seized　at　more　than　the　wrought…iron　screen　with　the　True　Power。　Remarkable　how　much　blood　could　be　squeezed　from　a　human　body。
　　　　　　　He　let　what　remained　of　the　man　fall　without　regret；　indeed；　thinking　only　that　when　Madic　was　found；　the　Aes　Sedai　would　surely　be　blamed。　A　small　addition　to　the　chaos　growing　in　the　world。　Ripping　a　hole　in　the　fabric　of　the　Pattern；　he　Traveled　with　the　True　Power。　He　had　to　find　those　women　before　they　used　this　Bowl　of　the　Winds。　And　failing　that。。。　He　disliked　people　meddling　with　his　carefully　laid　plans。　Those　who　did　so　and　lived；　lived　to　pay。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　The　gholam　stepped　into　the　room　cautiously；　nostrils　already　twitching　with　the　scent　of　still　hot　blood。　The　livid　burn　on　its　cheek　seemed　like　a　live　coal。　The　gholam　appeared　to　be　merely　a　slender　man；　a　little　taller　than　average　in　this　time；　yet　it　had　never　encountered　anything　that　could　harm　it。　Until　that　man　with　the　medallion。　What　might　have　been　smile　or　snarl　bared　its　teeth。　Curious；　it　peered　around　the　room；　but　there　was　nothing　beyond　the　crushed　corpse　on　the　floor　tiles。　And　a。。。　feel。。。　of　something。　Not　the　One　Power；　but　something　that　made　it。。。　itch；　if　not　quite　in　the　same　way。　Curiosity　had　brought　it　here。　Parts　of　the　grill　over　the　window　were　crushed；　pulling　the　whole　thing　loose　at　the　sides。　The　gholam　seemed　to　remember　something　that　made　it　itch　in　that　manner；　yet　so　much　of　what　it　recalled　was　fogged　and　dim。　The　world　had　changed；　as　it　seemed；　in　the　blink　of　an　eye。　There　had　been　a　world　of　war　and　killing　on　a　huge　scale；　with　weapons　that　reached　across　miles；　across　thousands　of　miles；　and　then　there　was。。。　this。　But　the　gholam　had　not　changed。　It　was　still　the　most　dangerous　weapon　of　all。
　　　　　　　Its　nostrils　flared　again；　though　it　was　not　by　scent　that　it　tracked　those　who　could　channel。　The　One　Power　had　been　used　below；　and　miles　to　the　north。　To　follow；　or　not？　The　man　who　had　wounded　it　was　not　with　them；　it　had　made　sure　of　that　before　leaving　the　high　vantage　place。　The　one　who　manded　it　wanted　the　man　who　had　wounded　it　dead　perhaps　as　much　as　he　did　the　women；　but　the　women　were　an　easier　target。　The　women　had　been　named；　too；　and　for　the　time　being；　it　was　constrained。　For　its　entire　existence　it　had　been　pelled　to　obey　one　or　another　human；　but　its　mind　held　the　concept　of　not　being　constrained。　It　must　follow　the　women。　It　wanted　to　follow。　The　moment　of　death；　when　it　felt　the　ability　to　channel　vanish　along　with　life；　produced　ecstasy。　Rapture。　But　it　was　hungry；　too；　and　there　was　time。　Where　they　could　run；　it　could　follow。　Settling　fluidly　beside　the　mangled　body；　it　began　to　feed。　Fresh　blood；　hot　blood；　was　a　necessity；　but　human　blood　always　held　the　sweetest　savor。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　
Chapter　3　
（Serpent　and　Wheel）　
A　Pleasant　Ride　
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　Farms　and　pastures　and　olive　groves　covered　most　of　the　land　around　Ebou　Dar；　but　many　small　forests　stretched　a　few　miles　across　as　well；　and　while　the　ground　was　much　flatter　than　the　Rhannon　Hills　to　the　south；　it　rolled　and　sometimes　rose　in　a　prominence　of　a　hundred　feet　or　higher；　sufficient　to　cast　deep　shadows　in　the　afternoon　sun。　All　in　all；　the　country　provided　more　than　enough　cover　to　keep　unwanted　eyes　from　what　might　have　passed　as　some　odd　merchant's　pack　train；　nearly　fifty　people　mounted　and　almost　as　many　afoot；　especially　when　it　had　Warders　to　find　unfrequented　paths　through　the　undergrowth。　Elayne　did　not　sight　a　mark　of　human　habitation　beyond　a　few　goats　cropping　on　some　of　the　hills。
　　　　　　　Even　plants　and　trees　used　to　heat　were　beginning　to　wither　and　die；　yet　at　any　other　time　she　might　have　enjoyed　merely　seeing　the　countryside。　It　could　have　been　a　thousand　leagues　from　the　land　she　had　seen　riding　down　the　other　bank　of　the　Eldar。　The　hills　were　strange；　knobby　shapes；　as　though　squeezed　together　by　huge；　careless　hands。　Flocks　of　brilliantly　hued　birds　soared　up　at　their　passing；　and　a　dozen　sorts　of　hummingbirds　flitted　away　from　the　horses；　hovering　jewels　on　blurred　wings。　Thick　vines　hung　like　ropes　in　some　places；　and　there　were　trees　with　bundles　of　narrow　fronds　at　the　top　for　foliage；　and　things　that　looked　like　green　feather　dusters　as　tall　as　a　man。　A　handful　of　plants；　fooled　by　the　heat；　struggled　to　put　out　blossoms；　bright　reds　and　vivid　yellows；　some　twice　as　wide　as　her　two　hands。　Their　perfume　was　lush　and　…　〃sultry〃　came　to　mind。　She　saw　some　boulders　she　would　have　wagered　had　once　been　toes　on　a　statue；　though　why　anyone　would　make　a　statue　that　large　with　bare　feet　she　could　not　imagine；　and　another　time　the　way　led　through　a　forest　of　thick　fluted　stones　among　the　trees；　the　weathered　stumps　of　columns；　many　toppled　and　all　long　since　mined　almost　to　the　ground　for　their　stone　by　local　farmers。　A　pleasant　ride　despite　the　dust　the　horses'　hooves　raised　from　parched　soil。　The　heat　did　not　touch　her；　of　course；　and　there　were　not　very　many　flies。　All　the　dangers　lay　behind　them；　they　had　outrun　the　Forsaken；　and　no　chance　any　of　them　or　their　servants　could　catch　up　now。　It　could　have　been　a　pleasant　ride；　except。。。
　　　　　　　For　one　thing；　Aviendha　learned　that　the　message　she　had　sent　about　enemies　ing　when　least　expected　had　not　been　delivered。　At　first　Elayne　felt　relief　at　anything　to　change　the　topic　from　Rand。　It　was　not　the　jealousy　e　back；　rather；　more　and　more　she　found　herself　wanting　what　Aviendha　had　shared　with　him。　Not　jealousy。　Envy。　She　would　almost　have　preferred　the　other。　Then　she　began　really　hearing　what　her　friend　was　saying　in　a　low　monotone；　and　the　hair　on　the　back　of　her　neck　tried　to　stand。
　　　　　　　〃You　can't　do　that；〃　she　protested；　reining　her　horse　closer　to　Aviendha's。　Actually；　she　supposed　Aviendha　would　not　have　much　trouble　drubbing　Kurin；　or　tying　her　up；　or　any　of　the　rest。　If　the　other　Sea　Folk　women　stood　still　for　it；　anyway。　〃We　can't　start　a　war　with　them；　certainly　not　before　we　use　the　Bowl。　And　not　over　this；〃　she　added　hastily。　〃Not　at　all。〃　They　certainly　were　not　going　to　start　a　war　before　or　after　the　Bowl　was　used。　Not　just　because　the　Windfinders　were　behaving　more　highhandedly　by　the　hour。　Not　just　because。。。　Drawing　breath；　she　hurried　on。　〃If　she　had　told　me；　I　would　not　have　known　what　you　meant。　I　understand　why　you　couldn't　speak　more　clearly；　but　you　do　see；　don't　you？〃
　　　　　　　Aviendha　glared　ahead　at　nothing；　absently　brushing　flies　away　from　her　face。　〃Without　fail；　I　told　her；〃　she　grumbled。　〃Without　fail！　What　if　he　had　been　one　of　the　Shadowsouled？　What　if　he　had　managed　to　get　by　me　through　the　gateway；　and　you　with　no　warning？　What　if。。。？〃　She　turned　a　suddenly　forlorn　gaze　on　Elayne。　〃I　will　bite　my　knife；〃　she　said　sadly；　〃but　my　liver　may　burst　for　it。〃
　　　　　　　Elayne　was　about　to　say　that　swallowing　her　anger　was　the　right　thing　to　do　and　she　could　pitch　as　large　a　fit　as　she　wanted　so　long　as　she　did　not　hurl　it　at　the　Atha'an　Miere　…　that　was　what　all　that